Maybe it would make a difference. Maybe Tryton could save her.
Tryton seemed to sense his thoughts. “I will try to save her. I don’t know…no human has ever survived. It’s why we’ve forbidden unprotected sex. Thank goodness humans have invented better condoms than we used to employ in my youth. Until these new latex condoms there were often accidents with our own designs.”
“Goodness knows we probably should have just outlawed sex between our races. But human women have always been drawn to us, and we to them. With careful practices there are few risks to our partners, and much pleasure. No Shikar has ever slept or long-term mated with a human woman, though. Not like this. It makes the game more risky. Usually once or twice with a willing human is enough.”
He kept talking to fill the void of worried silence. Obsidian was shaking and looming over the bed. It was all Tryton could do to keep from ordering him from the room as he bent and examined Cady. He ran his hands down the length of her, trying not to notice how very womanly her curves were. No matter that everyone saw him as a relic because of his age. He was still a man.
Cady thankfully still had a pulse, though it was very weak. Tryton had witnessed the emotional bond that was already forming between Obsidian and Cady. He had harbored no illusions, and had known this day would come eventually. In fact, he’d counted on it.
He hadn’t guessed that she would ingest it orally this first time. He wished it could have been otherwise. It complicated things quite a bit, as the poison could move more quickly into her bloodstream this way.
“Cady isn’t like any other woman. She’s different,” Obsidian choked out.
“She is,” Tryton agreed. “And perhaps that difference will be what saves her. We shall hope and see.”
Cady’s body suddenly thrashed on the bed, startling both men. Where before she had been so still she’d seemed dead, she now shuddered and writhed on the mattress. Her muscles visibly contorted and trembled, and they could hear her bones popping and grinding.
They watched, stunned, as her body reshaped itself before their very eyes.
Just as suddenly as her violent movements started, they stopped. Her bones realigned noisily. A long exhalation of breath escaped her lips and then…silence.
Tryton quickly checked for her pulse but found none. He felt a wave of frustration suffuse him. It wasn’t supposed to end like this! How could all his suspicions be false? How could all his careful planning fall to ashes like this? He’d been so sure that she was one who could survive a Shikar mating. That she would open the door to new possibilities between their species.
The unmoving, eerie stillness of Tryton’s disbelief must have registered to Obsidian.
“No!” he cried and dove for the bed. He started pumping her heart, performing the human ritual of CPR that he’d learned on a lark during a month of leisure from his post. Pumping her chest, then breathing in her mouth, over and over. It was all he could do to keep from screaming his rage and anguish.
He’d lost her.
There was still so much he wanted to say to her. So much to learn about her and have her learn about him. Something big, something altogether new had been shared between the two of them. More than sex, more than partnership, it had been the start of a deeper bond. Obsidian had felt on the brink of a discovery with Cady. Now it was too late.
Tears streamed down his face as he worked her heart and lungs. His arrogant pride was forgotten and he began to choke on his sobs. Never in his life had he known such a sense of loss. His heart was torn in the wake of it. Forgetting all sense he stopped CPR and took hold of her shoulders and began to shake her forcefully.
“Don’t you dare die on me!” He shouted it over and over, shaking her until her head lolled limply on her shoulders.
Tryton was shocked at Obsidian’s loss of control. Seeing his friend’s emotion for the woman sent a wave of guilt washing through him. He knew enough about Cady through his spies on Earth to see she was far too stubborn to ignore a warning about fluid exchange. If Obsidian had told her she couldn’t have his seed, then Cady would have been hell-bent to get it.
Tryton realized he should have warned Obsidian to ignore the unspoken law that humans must not know their Shikar secrets. He should have warned Obsidian to tell her outright why she couldn’t—mustn’t—take his seed.
But he hadn’t warned Obsidian. He had wanted to see the results of this mating for himself, should it come to pass. In his pride and arrogance he’d thought Cady wouldn’t be susceptible to the poison as other humans were. He’d assumed that because of her Shikar abilities she would survive, and perhaps even desire a long-term mating with Obsidian. It was possible. The Council had discussed it on many occasions, though none had tried to test their theories.
He was shamed at his actions. The cost for his folly was Cady’s life.
But…
Another thought occurred, and hope surged through him. “I’ll be back,” he promised Obsidian, though Tryton doubted the distraught warrior paid him any heed. He disappeared from the room in search of the one man who might be able to save Cady.
The Traveler.
* * * * *
Obsidian looked up from where he cradled Cady’s lifeless body. He hadn’t even realized he was alone until Tryton reappeared with The Traveler standing still and calm at his side.
“Give her to me Obsidian.”
“No. I won’t let you take her to the other side.” He gathered her closer to him.
“She is a mortal. In death, her spirit is already on the other side. This is just her empty shell now. Give her to me so that I may find a way to call her spirit back.” His voice was a deep pool of soothing calm. It lulled and coaxed.
Obsidian would have none of it. He resisted. “Leave me in peace to mourn her before you take her from me. What possible difference can it make?”
The Traveler’s hand rose and pushed back the cowl that, until now, had always shielded his features from other Shikars. “All the difference in the world, warrior. All the difference.”
Obsidian’s yellow eyes widened in recognition. Every Shikar, from the time they were old enough to toddle to the portrait hall, knew that face like his or her own. “Grimm. But…how…”
“There is no time for explanations, my friend. Please give Cady to Grimm. He will do what he can to bring her spirit back to us.” Tryton’s eyes were weary from the night’s ordeals.
Witless with his surprise at seeing a five-thousand-year-old legend, Obsidian could barely nod his ascent. He didn’t fight when Grimm reached out to take Cady from him. Could only watch, dumbstruck, as Grimm sat in a chair with her body cradled in his arms.
Grimm reached and put one of Cady’s fingers in his mouth. Obsidian had enough wits about him to grow concerned. “What are you doing?” he asked and saw Grimm remove her finger, which was now coated in glistening blood.
Grimm’s black, starlight speckled eyes met his. “I must have some of her blood. It will be easier to hunt her on the other side if I know her taste and scent. There are many souls there. It would take ages to find her without this small bonding.”
“What is a small bite when compared to her life? Calm down, Obsidian. Be quiet for a moment,” Tryton commanded.
Grimm turned back to Cady. Bending low by her ear, his long blue-black hair shielding them from view, he breathed in deeply of her scent. Holding it in his nose and lungs, his mouth full of the taste of her, he rose and brought the woman back to Obsidian.
“I will return,” he promised and disappeared from the room.
Chapter Thirteen
The realm between life and the afterlife was one Grimm knew all too well. He often walked here amongst the wandering souls who paid him no heed, seeking solace in the quiet void. Here he could move freely, anonymously, and without worry of keeping his guard up. In this realm no one knew him, or cared about who and what he was.
This was the only place he’d ever truly been able to relax.
Countless forms
wandered about here, paying each other no mind. None of them even really knew where they were. They were concerned with only one thing. Finding their way to the other side. Whether to reincarnation, Heaven, Valhalla or Hell, depending on their religion and choices in life, these people were searching for their just rewards.
Sometimes Grimm liked to help them find their way.
He couldn’t make them see him, not really. But he could lure them in the right direction. Being a Traveler, no realm was off limits to him. He’d seen the milk and honey lands of heaven, the fiery pits of hell, and the great stone halls of the Viking gods. These he’d seen and hundreds more. All the secrets of the universe were his to be had because of who and what he was.
Even so, he was not happy. Was never happy. His existence was at best a lonely one.
The blessed emptiness of this in-between place pulled at him. Lured him to let loose his mortal coil and be free at last. It was always this way. A constant struggle against giving in and seeing where fate would take his scarred soul. He was tired of wandering alone.
Something solid bumped into him. He stumbled back and fell flat on his back.
“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.” A voice as pure as the spring rain spoke to him from out of the bleak void. “Did you hurt yourself?”
A woman. Dark blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes and an enchanting, adorably crooked nose. But how could this be? She could see him—and he her. In this place, earthly forms held no meaning. Everyone here, save himself, was just a non-descript moving vapor in the darkness.
How could this be?
“You can see me?” he asked. He’d risen from his fall and he looked down when he spoke. She was tall for a woman. Her head reached to just below his shoulder. She tilted her face and regarded him curiously.
“Of course. This is my dream, after all. I control who and what I see. You’re very beautiful you know. I’m glad you’re just a dream because if you were real you’d knock my socks off.” She reached up and brushed back a long lock of hair that had fallen over his face.
“You can’t see me here. It’s not possible.” He tried to ignore the stab of lust and hunger he felt when she touched him. Her delicious scent, of some wild exotic flower, intoxicated him. His cock grew heavy and hard.
“Of course it is. I’m asleep and dreaming this whole thing,” she said. Her voice was smooth as honey with a drawling accent he couldn’t quite place.
He couldn’t resist reaching out to brush softly against her breast with the back of his hand. She was certainly bewitching, though why he should let it affect him he couldn’t say. Her nipple quickly grew to a point and she rubbed back against him sensuously.
“That feels really good.”
“I can make you feel even better,” he promised. He leaned down from his greater height to press a soft kiss against her lips. She moaned into his mouth and it was all he could do to keep from pouncing on her right then and there.
“This is turning into such a delicious dream,” she said, pulling back slightly. He let her, though it was difficult. Her babbling continued. “I hope I wake up soon though because I think I’m still driving. I remember driving home from work and then…this dream. God I hope I haven’t been asleep long.” Her voice was starting to sound puzzled.
It suddenly dawned on Grimm why she could see and talk to him. She was here by mistake. It obviously wasn’t her time. He didn’t know how she’d managed to keep her physical form in this realm, or how she’d managed to stay cognizant of her surroundings. To his knowledge, only Shikar Travelers were able to accomplish such a thing.
One thing was for certain. She didn’t belong here.
With regret, he realized he had to send her back. Now. “Go back to your waking world, human. You don’t belong here just yet. Go back.” He deliberately coated his voice with his power. Compelling her to obey.
Her eyes took on a glazed, hypnotized quality. “You know something? You remind me of someone.”
“It’s not your time, you must go back,” he stressed, seeing her fight the compulsion.
“You…you look like…” Her eyes drifted shut and her form flickered. Then disappeared without a trace.
Grimm watched her go with a feeling of loss. After a long moment Grimm came back to himself with a jolt. With great effort he remembered his quest to find Cady. Dutifully he pushed aside the odd connection he’d felt with the strange woman. Now was no time for dawdling. He must find Cady.
Breathing deeply of the still air around him he caught a faint trace of her scent and followed it.
* * * * *
“He’s not going to make it.”
“Have a little faith, Obsidian. These things take time, I’m sure.”
“It’s been an hour. I don’t care if he is the legendary Grimm, he’s not going to make it. It’s impossible.”
Tryton sighed, watching Obsidian pace the length of the room again. He hated to admit it, but perhaps Obsidian was right. Never before had this sort of thing been attempted. So perhaps it was an effort in futility. Even Grimm was known to fail sometimes. It wasn’t often, admittedly. But perhaps this was one of those times.
“Why hasn’t he returned?” Obsidian roared the question.
“I don’t know. He will return when he’s exhausted all hope. Give him a little more time.”
As quick as a blink Grimm stood over the bed, looking down at Cady’s lifeless body.
“What happened? Did you find her? Where is she?” Obsidian’s questions sounded more like accusations in his state of near panic.
Grimm didn’t acknowledge him. He simply sat next to Cady and took her hand. He softly called her name. “Come towards the sound of my voice, Cady. Come back.”
Several moments passed. Not a sound was made beyond the gentle murmurs of Grimm’s voice as he continued calling for her.
Then suddenly, there was a long inhaled scream. Cady jerked and bucked on the mattress, the inhuman wail still sounding from her. With a violent movement she rose from the pillow, and would have launched herself from the bed if not for Grimm’s interference. Everyone stared, stunned, as Cady quieted.
All was still but for her rapid breathing.
Obsidian was the first to find his voice. “Oh baby, you’re all right.” He moved to sit beside her and took her from Grimm’s steadying hands. He enfolded her in his arms, thanking all the Gods that ever were for the miracle he’d just witnessed. “Open your eyes, let me know you’re going to be all right.”
Long black lashes fluttered then shot open. Every one of the men gasped and started. Obsidian couldn’t find his voice, but Cady suddenly could.
“So The Traveler is the Grim Reaper. I knew it!” she rasped out, voice harsh as if from misuse.
None of the men could find the will to speak. They could only stare as Cady blinked up at them…with her Shikar yellow eyes.
* * * * *
“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. What you’re telling me, essentially, is that Obsidian’s sperm has changed me? Infected and poisoned my DNA to the point that it mutated into that of a Shikar?”
“I’m only guessing, but that is how it appears. Only time will tell,” Tryton said.
“Your reflexes are faster, and you’re stronger. I could tell that much, at least, when you struggled against me upon waking. And your eyes are no longer your human brown. What other traits you have inherited remain to be seen. Suffice it to say you are not a human anymore. If you ever were completely human, which I doubt,” Grimm pointed out.
“But I don’t want to be changed! I want a normal life. I have a job, a car, and a home. I’m not going to leave all that behind. I’ll just wear contacts and remember to move really slowly so people can see me.”
“It’s not that easy, love.” Obsidian’s voice was coaxing, gentle. “What if, like us, you blister in the sunlight? What will you do then?”
“One word. Sunscreen. Well maybe two more, Ozone 70. That’s supposed to be the highest SPF
on the market.”
The three men seated around her looked on in confusion. Cady rolled her eyes. “Never mind. You guys sure know a lot about human products when it suits you,” she said thinking of Obsidian’s stash of Trojan condoms. “Forget it. Maybe I’ll just wear long sleeves and pants all the time.”
“It won’t work. Don’t you think we’d be doing that if it did?”
“I don’t want to be a Shikar,” she wailed. “I want to be me. Just me…well maybe ten pounds lighter but that’s it. Carajo, I just want things to stay the way they are.”
“Well, things may not have changed too much. But in the meantime might I suggest that you avoid direct sunlight altogether. Just in case. Tonight, after the sun sets, you should go home and gather what necessities you’ll need until we can sort this out.” Tryton tried sounding diplomatic.
“I’m bringing Squaker and that’s non-negotiable.” She tried and failed to steady her voice. Fear was something she never liked dealing with, and this whole situation was freaking her out.
“Who’s Squaker?” all three men asked in unison.
“My cat. And he’s coming with me.”
“Squaker is most welcome. We also have our animal friends. I think Desondra has two cats—Persians actually,” Tryton mused.
“Who’s Desondra?”
“She’s Zim’s wife, a warrior from the Hunter Caste. They don’t live far from here, perhaps a league. You’ll meet them, and many others soon. Obsidian still has to show you about the city. And some of our women have come together to make you a suit of armor. I hear it’s a stunning creation.”
“A suit of armor? Are you kidding? I’ve never needed armor before. Besides it’s too clunky. And none of the men wear armor. Why do I need to?”
“You don’t have the added benefit of foils, as we do. But you can judge for yourself its usefulness when you see the suit,” Obsidian said. “You don’t have to accept it, though much work was put into the design.”
“Hey, don’t go trying to make me feel guilty. It won’t work. I’ve been through a lot today without that added burden. Is it even today or tonight or what? How long was I gone?”
Ravenous Page 9
